


Away From the Sun

by frumious_bandersnatch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abandonment, Apocalypse, Depression, Drugs, F/M, Gen, God left, Guilt, M/M, Multi, Self-Harm, Sex, Violence, misuse of angelic powers, post apocalyptic, the celestial watchmaker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-08 02:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21228404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frumious_bandersnatch/pseuds/frumious_bandersnatch
Summary: God revealed his true self and the Earth is dying. He wants to move on, but not before he wraps this up with a real apocalypse. If you can’t get it done right, do it yourself. So he does- but what happens when humanity and his sons fight back?





	1. Introduction

Lucifer groaned in his sleep, brow furrowed as he jerked on his small cot. He eventually fell with a yelp, eye (the one he had left) wide as he looked around the small room of his shack, covered in frost and ice. He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face and fixing the soft velvet eyepatch he’d gotten a long time ago. It was one of the last nice things he had.

He shook his head, standing and stretching, wearing nothing but his skin. He looked at the small form hunched in the corner, grabbing a knife and running it through their neck. He stooped down, parting his lips and placing them to the open wound. The demon was brain dead, and the human had been gone a long time, but the blood still worked to maintain Nick. He stood when he’d finished, splashing his face in a basin of cold water rippling and shining with the light of the moon from outside the window with no pane.

He swallowed thickly, coughing and pulling on a pair of black jeans and a gingham flannel. He rolled up the sleeves, closed his eyes, and let out his wings. Then on went two heavily spelled tarnished silver bracelets, for the purpose of keeping his grace powered up. He looked outside at the desolate landscape and heaved another long sigh, stepping outside. The world had ended a long time ago, and he was one of the only ones trying to fix it.

His eyes flickered red as he walked, frost spreading across the ground as he walked towards the garden he’d made, his bare feet slapping on the hard cracked earth. He had a lot of work to do.

The End Times weren’t kind to anyone. Gabriel had capitalized on this a long time ago. He sold and bartered goods with the few humans left- namely food and water and sometimes sex. He’d forgone an eyepatch, instead letting his hair grow to cover the gaping hole in his face; a look that was rather popular with holy things now.

No human had an explanation yet, for the missing eyes. Many were curious but never asked. he opened a briefcase, humming as he pulled out a spell and tossed it at his customer- he didn’t have a set place to sell, people just found him when they were desperate enough.

“I’ll be back in ten years.” He hummed, looking at his nails lazily and picking out specks of dirt, blood, and grime. “Come here and kiss me, sugar.” He crooned, grinning down at the rail thin human before him. Today was a good day for business.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel have a long overdue talk after a long, hard day.

“I’ll be back in ten years.” He hummed, looking at his nails lazily and picking out specks of dirt, blood, and grime. “Come here and kiss me, sugar.” He crooned, grinning down at the rail thin human before him. Today was a good day for business.

Bang. A shot rang out, deafening compared to the once busy street’s usual silence. Gabriel stumbled forwards, letting out a low growl as he stared down at the hole in his chest. The human in front of him collapsed, having been hit by the shot meant for the archangel and the archangel alone.

Gabriel whirled around, bloodied wings spreading out behind him as his eye glowed through the smoke and the grime in the air. “Who dared to attack me?” He bellowed, a perfect picture of righteous fury.

“Me. Gabriel, what the hell are you doing buying souls?”

Gabriel laughed, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Dean, Dean, Dean. How stupid can one man be?” He paused, gaze hardening. “Don’t answer that.” He stalked forwards, wound slowly sealing up as he approached the Winchester. “I thought the cage popped open- why isn’t Michael riding your sweet ass, huh?”

Dean clenched his jaw. “Michael’s dead. And if you don’t stop this crap right now, you will be to. Come on, Gabriel, you’re better than this-“

“Don’t pull that with me, boy.” Gabriel growled, marching forwards and lifting Dean by the collar of his flannel before slamming him against the wall. “So, Dean, how’s it been getting on? How’s Cassie?” He asked conversationally through a grunt as he tightened his grip.

Dean choked, scrabbling at Gabriel’s arm as his grip moved to his neck. “G’briel- please-“

Gabriel only laughed. “Now, Dean, I want you to run back home to your brother and your lap angel. I’m gonna use small words here, just so you understand. Tell them to stay the hell away from me or I’m going to trap you in a pocket dimension that makes the mystery spot look like a walk in the park. Understood?” He released his grip.

Dean collapsed, panting as he scrambled away.

“Good boy, Dean. Run along back home.”

——————————

Dean slammed open the door to the bunker. “Damnit!” He yelled, glaring a hole into the floor as he stormed down the wrought iron steps. “God fucking damnit-“ He slumped down at the table.

Castiel looked up, frowning. “I am assuming your meeting with my brother went poorly.” He tilted his head to the side, blinking. He looked a little...worse for wear. He still had his trench coat and suit, but his right eye was jarringly green. He was eternally grateful they’d managed to find a glass eye in storage, even if its origins were a little dubious.

“That’s putting it lightly.” Dean sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. “He’s buying souls, I don’t know why. I couldn’t find out. He doesn’t...” He shook his head,

Castiel nodded solemnly. “I see. Like Balthazar had, Before.” Before was always a capital letter, for them. It was that important, to remember a time where everything was innocent. More innocent, at least.

“Yeah, but worse. He’s not just taking the soul, he’s- he’s making demon deals and sending them down to hell.” Dean shook his head. “To who, I don’t know, because it seems like every goddamned demon to ever exist has moved topside.”

Castiel nodded sagely. “There were some demons who enjoyed hell. Perhaps they remain and torment new souls.”

Dean huffed. “What, like Alastair? I’m sure he was the only asshole that liked it down there besides me and the princes. No, I think he’s got a deal for safety from Hell. Makes more sense for him to just send them souls- pretty valuable, now, right?”

“Mm, yes.” Castiel frowned, scratching at the side of his head. “Sam?” He raised a brow, sighing as he saw the other hunter sleeping on top of a half finished book, chin resting on his crossed arms. He was running himself ragged trying to find a way to fix everything, to bring earth back to normal. As if anything could be normal when God was gone.

“Let him rest, Cas. We all know he needs it.” Dean said quietly, voice broken and sad. “Well, that’s two archangels done. Two to go, right? If Raphael’s still alive.”

Castiel gave a shrug. “I simply exploded them. They should still be alive, if they are in hiding. They never did like fighting, much like Gabriel.”

Dean nodded. “I hated that dick anyways. We look for Lucifer first.” He sighed, running his hands over his face and closing his eyes as he gave up the ever present fight against the tears beading there.

“Are you sure? Lucifer always wanted the apocalypse.” Castiel frowned.

“Not like this. I...when I went to the future, I talked to him. He doesn’t want the earth to waste away. If we can get him on our side, even for a little, it would make it so much easier.”

Castiel shook his head. “It may be too dangerous.” His wings, long forced out into the mortal plane just like every other angel’s, twitched awkwardly.“I don’t trust him. Not after the fight with Amara.”

“I know he hurt you then, Cas. He...” Dean took in a sharp breath. “I see where he was coming from. We really fucked up the earth, Cas. He just wants it back to how it was. And then his dad just left. I know you and...you and Chuck weren’t really close, but they sure were. It hurts you deep when that happens, y’know?”

Castiel sighed. “I know, Dean. I also know that this is dangerous, and we need to be prepared no matter how much you understand Lucifer at the moment. He may not understand you. I just want you to be safe.”

Dean nodded again, lips pursed in thought. “You too, Cas.” He stood, pausing. “Love you.” He said quietly as he stalked off to his room, rolling his shoulders and sighing. It was going to be a long day tomorrow...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to comment if you see something you like! Constructive criticism is always welcome :)


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search for Lucifer begins

Dean looked up at Castiel. “This is all we need, right?” He asked, brow furrowed as he ran his hands over the ingredients set out on the table before his fingers hovered over a wicked looking silver blade.

Sam nodded. “Yeah. This is what we need to summon Lucifer- and I have the warding to keep him powered down while he’s here up.” He swallowed thickly.

“Are you sure you are ready for this, Sam?” Castiel frowned. “I know what he did-“

“And he made up for it. Let’s just get this over with.” Sam clenched his jaw, looking down at the spell book clasped in his hands. “Can you translate the spell, Cas?”

Castiel frowned. “I already told you, Sam. That dialogue of enochian is to me like Chaucer’s English is to you. I can, but it will take time. An hour at the very least.”

Dean nodded. “So why don’t we relax? We haven’t...we haven’t in too long. It’s good for you, you know, Sammy. You need to do it more often.”

“No I don’t. What we need to do is fix this mess. We need to make this right, and we need to find Chuck, and-“

“Woah there, cowboy. Hold your horses.” Dean sighed. “That’s a long way away. Believe it or not, we have plenty of time. So I’m going to pull out battleship, and we’re gonna play while Cas translates that spell. Capiche?” He raised a brow. It obviously wasn’t a question- that’s what they were going to be doing.

Sam sighed. “Gotcha.” He sat down, grabbing a dusty flannel blanket from the chair next to him and wrapping it around his shoulders like a cape as Dean walked out. “Do you know why he’s so set on me being happy?” He asked with a frown, looking down at Castiel as he read.

“Because he’s your brother, Sam.” Castiel said softly. “He wants what’s best for you, and he’s practically killing himself to do it.” His voice grew more firm. “So if anything, you should be humoring him. Just to make him happy.”

Sam cringed and looked down. “Okay.” A small pause, and then a murmured, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Sam.” Castiel sighed, brow furrowed. “Make sure you okay your game quietly, this spell is rather confusing.”

Sam nodded jerkily. “Of course, Cas. Anything you need.” He smiled as Dean walked in. “You know I always win, right?” He raised a brow.

“Nah, that’s Rock Paper Scissors. I’m gonna cream your ass in this game, I promise.” Dean’s forced grin became more natural. “Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

____

“B12!” Dean shouted, taking another sip of his beer. By the time both Winchester’s were buzzed and loud, Castiel had migrated two rooms over. Now he was in another wing of the bunker.

Sam shook his head, laughing. “Fuck no, I know you’re spelling penis on my board, play the game for real.” Dean was doing a pretty good job of it, too. He was through ‘Peni’ at the moment.

“Am not! That’s a perfectly valid strategy! Now call your number, Sammy.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “A9.” He quirked a brow. That had to be one.

“Wrong again, Sam.” Dean had taken the master strategy and stacked all his boats on top of each other in the bottom row.

Sam groaned. “Come on! I’ve had to have hit it by now! At least one boat.” His lower lip stuck out in his by now perfected puppy-dog pout.

“Nope.” Dean replied, popping the ‘p’. “B13.” He hummed. Halfway through the S.

“I’m hit.” Sam sighed, grinning lazily. “C....10?” He tilted his head to the side.

“Already guessed it.” Dean hummed. “Try again next time, bud.”

Sam huffed, crossing his arms. The game (several of them in a row) went on for a few hours, leaving both Winchester’s happy, drunk, and satisfied. Long day indeed- they’d been having the best fun they’d had since Before. Castiel returned shortly after their final game, holding a sheet of loose leaf paper in one hand and his angel blade in the other. “The spell is ready.”

“Fuckin’ awesome, man.” Dean grinned and stood, wobbling slightly. “Oh-“

Castiel sighed. “Would you like me to expel the alcohol from your system?” He asked softly.

“Yep.” Dean popped the ‘p’ again, lazy grin spread across his flushed face.

“Me too.” Sam added, stretching in his seat. He didn’t trust himself to stand without falling.

Castiel closed his eyes for a second as his hands flowed white, outstretched towards the two men for a second before he stopped. He was running low on grace- they were all lucky that was basically a parlor trick to him.

“Sam, I will need your blood for this.” Castiel nodded, pulling a copper bowl out of thin air. “We need something his grace has touched- mine will be too muddled with my own grace to work.”

Sam winced and nodded, rolling up his sleeve in preparation. “How much?”

“Just a few drops.” Instead of lifting his angel blade, Castiel took up a pin and prodded Sam’s pointer finger, letting three drops of blood fall into the bowl with soft pinging noises as they hit the metal.

“What else?” Dean asked after a while, looking at the herbs spread across the table.

“Those need to be ground into a fine powder and mixed. I can assist.” Castiel said softly, holding up two mortar and pestles he’d found in storage. The three of them got to work, spending time to ensure that no large bits of leaf or root were left unground so as not to potentially ruin the spell- summoning were very specific for a reason.

“I wish we still had that food processor.” Dean grumbled as he wiped his hands on his jeans.

“It broke, Dean.” Sam reminded, yawning. “So that’s the herbs, the blood, now we just need the crystal.”

Castiel held up a small piece of rose quartz. “That is taken care of. Are you both ready?”

“Have been for a while, Cas. Let’s get this show on the road.” Dean bit his lip. “You reading it?”

“Yes. It will be easier that way.” Castiel cleared his throat, closing his eyes for a second before he slowly began to drone in enochian, eyes glowing blue. The entire building seemed to shake to its very foundations, copper bowl rattling from its place on the table they’d set up. The candles flickered before blinking out one by one.

The atmosphere in the dusty old room grew thick with the scent of rain and the first bloom of daffodils in spring after a long winter’s freeze.

The fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling, long since burned out, began to spark to new life, illuminating the room in a cold artificial light.

As Castiel spoke the final words, it grew too bright for any of them to keep their eyes open. The room filled with power before it abruptly faded, and the trio immediately relaxed the straight-backed posture they had been holding out of fear.

Lucifer gasped as he felt a tug on his grace, falling to his knees in front of a rose bush he was tending. He’d managed to restore almost two acres of land to their former glory- and hopefully it wouldn’t take much effort to make it spread. He appeared in the middle of a heavily warded circle, eye closed and dusty rose wings spread out to their full length behind him. He blinked his eye open, brow furrowed. “Gabriel?”

“Good to see you to, Luci.” Gabriel said through a smirk, biting his lip. “What, not what you were expecting?”

Lucifer looked into the back corner of the room and his gaze hardened. “So that’s who you’re working with. I should have known.”

Dean frowned. “Where the hell is he?” He asked, staring at the center of the room blankly.

Castiel tilted his head to the side. “...He is warded somewhere else. Not by his own doing, either.”

Sam blinked. “Did someone else take him?”

“That is altogether likely.” Castiel nodded. “I can scry for him with what we have left.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are welcome, especially constructive criticism!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Comments and constructive criticism are welcome :)


End file.
